


Desired Company

by GreyLiliy



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2013-10-18
Packaged: 2017-12-29 18:03:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyLiliy/pseuds/GreyLiliy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tarn desires Pharma's company, to the confusion of his peers. Pharma's returned affection is not a needed requirement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desired Company

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to try something from Tarn’s point of view.
> 
> And yes. More Tarn x Pharma. I’m obsessed.

Tarn drummed his fingers on the edge of his chair in the main hall of their headquarters. His favorite company would be arriving shortly, but his present company was currently in a foul mood. Tarn sighed heavily under the oppressive atmosphere, and turned to the worst offender. “You look like you have something to say, Helex.”

“He’s coming over again, isn’t he?” Helex said, his voice clipped and tight. “The  _doctor._ ”

The word “doctor” fell off Helex’s lips like a particularly filthy curse, as if it pained him to speak it. Tesarus averted his gaze, the ‘X’ across his face exaggerating the movement. Vos, in his rifle alt-mode under his arm had nothing to add, and Kaon’s lips merely pursed in agreement with Helex’s tone. It was not unknown to Tarn how his men felt about their good doctor, Pharma.

Tarn pressed his index finger and thumb against the side of his head, the beginnings of a migraine making themselves woefully known. “Yes, as he does every week. Is there a problem, Helex?”

“I just think he’s over here a lot,” Helex said. He threw his hands out, and a whine entered the edges of his voice. “He’s still an Autobot. Doesn’t that tread awfully close to crossing a line more fitting to those we punish?”

“Corrupting Autobots has never been considered a traitorous activity, Helex. In fact, our dear Lord and Master Megatron has often encouraged it,” Tarn said. His eyes narrowed behind his mask, waiting for Helex to get to the real point. “Something of which you are aware. Do speak your mind, Helex. There are no secrets here.”

“We’re concerned you’re getting too attached,” Tesarus said. He pursed his lips and shook his head. “Is what Helex is trying to get at.”

_Attached,_ Tarn thought to himself, playing the word over and over in his head. _Joined. Attracted._   _Fixed upon._ So many lovely synonyms he could apply to the word. Did they apply to how Tarn felt about Pharma?

The answer was an undeniable ‘Yes.’

Tarn was never one to misplace his words or thoughts, and denial was for the weak. It oozed of someone who was out of touch with his emotions, and had no sense of self. The leader of the Decepticon Justice Division prided himself on his strength be it physical or mental. What did he have to hide? It wasn’t as if affection in and of itself was weakness. How you handled it was the sign of a lesser or greater mech.

“Considering I enjoy his company, and that I have been taking him to my berth for the better part of two months, I feel ‘attached’ may be too inadequate of a word,” Tarn said. Helex gaped openly, and Tarn smirked behind his mask. “So, yes. I’d say I’m downright f _ond_  of our dear Autobot doctor. Do you have an issue with this, Helex? Please, tell me if that’s the case. I’d be more than happy to hear you out.”

Helex clamped his mouth shut, and Tarn could almost hear the grinding of his teeth from even this bit of distance. The fists of his fingers pulsed as he squeezed—on all four sets, no less—and he shook his head. Helex muttered a soft as his only response, “No, Sir.”

“Are you sure? You sound upset,” Tarn said, lowering his voice to just above a whipser. He turned to the others in the room, letting his gaze fall on them one by one. “Tesarus, Vos, Kaon? Any of you have something to add to this discussion?”

Tesarus shook his head in the negative, and the rifle he held stayed silent. Not even a whisper of the old tongue left him.

Kaon, on the other hand, spoke: “It’s a shame he doesn’t seem to return the fondness you speak of.”

“Well, all things in a matter of time, I suppose,” Tarn said. He chuckled lightly. “What would Decepticons be if they didn’t take what they wanted by the hand?”

“Not monsters?”

All heads turned to Pharma, standing in the doorway of the main hall. Tarn shifted his fingers so that the side of his mask rested on the back of his knuckles. He could hear Helex snort, and Tesarus growl as Pharma entered the room.

The good Doctor glanced at the glaring mechs to his left and shrugged, “Sorry, did I interrupt?”

“Of course not, dear Doctor,” Tarn said. “We were just discussing you, and how I found myself desiring your company.”

“Is that so?” Pharma said, his lip quirking. “Burn through another cog that quickly? And here I thought today was merely a quick check-up and inventory.”

Tarn laughed, and he stood from his throne at the end of the hall. He couldn’t help the transformation as he stepped down, the feeling of joy at hearing the Doctor’s sarcastic tones lightening his spirit. Gears whirled and parts shifted into place as Tarn transformed from mech to tank. The shot of ecstasy doubled when he rolled forward a few feet and transformed again, placing himself a foot away from the Doctor.

“As you can see, it’s still quite functional,” Tarn said. He glanced at Helex, but addressed Pharma.  “Shall we retire to somewhere more private? I fear present company is a bit unpleasant for the moment.”

“Whatever you wish, Tarn,” Pharma said, tapping his portable medical kit against the side of his leg. “It’s your base.”

Tarn chuckled as the two of them left the rest of his crew to ponder their jealousy and misplaced worry. Their travel from the main hall to Tarn’s personal quarters was a now well known path to dear Doctor Pharma, and the walk was pleasant. Routine was good for the spark.

As they entered Tarn’s room, Pharma dropped his case on a side table. The doctor sneered at Tarn as the door closed, trapping them both together. Pharma inspected the tips of his fingers. “‘Desiring my company,’ was it? What a thing to tell your little minions. It’s like you’re trying to start a fight with them.”

Tarn stared down at the lithe jet. Pharma’s paint was a bit scuffed around his arms, and there was a bit of paint residue. One of his patients must have gotten rough. Tarn longed to buff the markings away, but there was a time and place for such things. “And why do you say that?”

“They don’t like me, and the feeling is mutual,” Pharma said. He narrowed his eyes and bit the edge of his lip for half a second before shrugging his shoulders. “I’m not too fond of you, either, you know. If it wasn’t for our deal, I can promise you I wouldn’t be here.”

“Of course not,” Tarn said. 

The hatred Pharma held for Tarn burned in his spark so brightly that it flashed behind his optics, in the scowl on his face and the tremor in his form. It pained Tarn to have his affections be rejected so, but the sheer passion of that hatred was becoming in a way he couldn’t describe. That Pharma could put him at such a loss for words lit his own spark with a different, more delicate sort of passion. 

“You are looking after your own interests,” Tarn said. He reached up and unclipped his mask. He set it gently on the table alongside Pharma’s medical kit, feeling the fresh air hit against his exposed face filling each and every crack and scar. Tarn cupped the side of Pharma’s face, gently leading him until his back hit the door. “Just as I am looking after my own.”

Tarn’s lips crashed against Pharma’s, their teeth knocking into each other with the roughness of it all. The dear doctor reciprocated the kiss with the bare minimum of movement, off-lining his optics and letting himself be dragged into an embrace. The bored demeanor would shift into a bit more participation as his body heated and his spark reached for Tarn’s, but for now he’d let Tarn do as he pleased.

Pharma’s desire to live was far to strong to bother and struggle. Tarn’s berth was the inevitable destination, lest their tenuous deal be broken.

“Taking your time tonight?” Pharma said, in an unusual display of interest.

Tarn smiled into another kiss, and shifted his hand down to snatch the jet off the ground by the back of his thigh. He held Pharma up, so that the jet looked down at him. Pharma’s hands found rest on Tarn’s shoulders, and the tank smiled at their warmth. “As I said, I plan to enjoy your company for as long as I have it. Why would I rush, dear Doctor?”

“The leader of the Decepticon Justice Division is a hopeless romantic,” Pharma said, throwing his head back. “Oh, what would the masses say to that?”

Tarn turned and dropped both Pharma and himself to the berth. Pinning the jet down with arms on either side of the red and white helm, Tarn leaned down. He whispered, letting his special talents work their magic. He wrapped them around Pharma, and sent them straight down to his spark. “They’d be jealous that my affections are focused on you and not them.”

Pharma shifted beneath him, the tip of his wing nudging Tarn’s wrist. The heat from the doctor’s spark rose, warming his metal plating. “Always thinking so highly of yourself, aren’t you, Tarn?”

“I love it when you say my name,” Tarn said, his own spark lifting in his chest. He traced his thumb heavily against the obnoxious Autobot logo in the middle of Pharma’s chest, just above his beating spark. “To have you say it here no less, is a remarkable treat. Shall I reward you for it?”

“Snuff your own spark out for me?” Pharma asked, innocently. He tapped the side of Tarn’s cheek. “That would definitely be a treat.”

Tarn kissed Pharma’s venomous lips, gently and sweetly. He flattened his hand, and drew it down along Pharma’s side. He dug into the joint he found with the tips of his fingers, the ministration sending Pharma’s back into an arch. “I suppose I’ll have to come up with something on my own to please you.”

“You’ll be trying for a long, long time, Tarn,” Pharma said. He cupped the sides of Tarn’s cheeks, and his own expression dropped into something contemplative, thoughtful and tired all in the same weary face. His thumb traced alongside a particularly long scar and his optics dimmed. “I do truly despise you, I hope you’re aware.”

“It’s hard to think otherwise, Pharma,” Tarn said. He pressed their bodies together, and tightened his hold on Pharma’s hip until the pleasure turned to pain. Pharma winced, and hissed as the tank’s grip refused to relinquish. “But you’re here where I want you, and I’m a very patient being. Your returned affection, while desirable, is not a requirement in this arrangement.”

Pharma grit his teeth, and tightened his own grip on Tarn’s helm. “Than hurry and take what you want, monster. I have other places to be.”

“I think perhaps instead,” Tarn said. He flipped open the small panel that hid Pharma’s interfacing equipment. He rolled a hidden wire between two fingers. “That you stay the night, and we find out just how fast you can fly in the morning to return to your little Delphi.”

“Tarn,” Pharma hissed.

The so-named monster cut off any further words with another harsh kiss, ripping the cord from Pharma’s side and plugging it into his own port. Tarn growled into the kiss as the first hints of energy flew across the bond. “For someone who hates me so, you really should stop rewarding me.”

“I hate you,” Pharma said as soon as his lips were free. He dropped his head back onto the berth and stared at a point just past Tarn’s helm. He spoke more to himself, than the mech flush against him. “You and your company.”

“And yet I still desire yours,” Tarn said. He grinned, holding Pharma’s helm between his hands. “And I can assure you that it shall remain that way for a long time to come.”


End file.
